


A Scandal in Belgravia

by Clara_Watson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A little dodgy, Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia, OC related, firefly companion theory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Watson/pseuds/Clara_Watson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Scandal in Belgravia, retold with Lestrade's daughter in the mix!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this without writing the first season, so here's a little explaining for everyone!  
> Kitty is Lestrade's daughter, who's living with Sherlock and John because she wanted to stay near her Dad without staying with her Mum (And she had no money). Yup. One day i'll get around to writing the start of this!

"We're back!" Sherlock yelled up the stairs, discarding his jacket at the door. Foot steps were heard, first light, then heavier as Kitty launched into Sherlock's arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Don't you ever, ever do that again." She sobbed, before slapping him in the face from the second step. Sherlock didn't even budge. "I was scared shitless!" She then stomped passed Sherlock and hugged John too, but without the slap.

"You were right to stay at Sarah's." Kitty whispered, aware that John was shaking more than she'd ever seen him shake, not before the war, or after the war. It was the scariest thing she'd ever seen in her life. "Come on, I'll make you both some tea."


	2. Domesticated life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's typing a blog. Sherlock's a bit too curious.

"What are you typing?" Sherlock asked, flicking through the newspaper.

"Does it matter?" Kitty asked from her sofa, both John and Sherlock ignored her.

"A blog." 

"About?" Kitty huffed in her seat as Sherlock spoke again.

"Again, does it matter?" She said, rolling her eyes. Ignored a second time.

"Us."

"You mean me."

"Why?" Kitty crossed her legs, storm clouds forming above her head quite literally. Sherlock breathed in his coffee steam quite deeply, then coughed as Kitty threw a ball of paper at his forehead with quite extreme force.

"Well, you're typing a lot." John looked up from his computer, face reddening. Kitty smirked and delved deeper into her book about heart patients. The door bell rang, Sherlock smiled and left the table, leaving Kitty and John to make the place look presentable.


	3. Go play chemistry

"So many cases," Kitty yelled into her pillow, that still found its way onto Sherlock's couch even though Sherlock detested the idea.

 

"It's good for Sherlock," John smiled, typing away at his blog. Sherlock came and practically hung over John's shoulder, looking at what he was typing.

"The Geek Interpreter what's that?" Kitty almost screamed from the couch.

"That's the title." John replied, clearly as frustrated as Kitty was at Sherlock's new found curiosity in just about everything. 

"What does it need a title for?" 

"THE SAME BLOODY REASON YOUR EXPERIMENTS NEED TITLES!" Kitty screamed, picking an apple up from the fruit bowl and pegging in at Sherlock's head, "NOW SOD OFF AND GO PLAY CHEMISTRY!" John smirked as Sherlock went back to the kitchen, and something started burning.


	4. The Speckled Blonde

The body was pretty banged up, and Lestrade was hesitant with letting his daughter into the morgue, but with a few words from Sherlock about Lestrade's marital status, Lestrade finally let Kitty come in with them. 

"Do people actually read your blog?" Sherlock asked, Kitty was tempted to pick up the scalpel beside her and throw it into Sherlock's head while he danced about the body with his magnifying glass.

"Where do you think our clients come from?" John replied, Kitty breathed heavily and moved away from the instrument tray. Her Dad just stood, dead faced, watching the two of them bicker away.

"I have a website." Sherlock replied, Kitty stood at the head of the dead body, running her plastic gloves through the blonde's hair, she looked so young...

"Nobody reads your website Sherlock, nobody needs to know 240 different types of tobacco ash." Kitty sighed, her eyes huge as she looked at her Dad, begging him to somehow stop the off bantering between Sherlock and John. 

"Right then," John said, looking at Kitty with a smirk on his face, "Dyed blonde hair, no obvious cause of death," Lestrade scratched his nose as Kitty jumped back from John and Sherlock, leaving them to their deductions. "Except for these speckles, whatever they are." Sherlock twirled and left, Kitty ran after him, John and Lestrade took a little longer, looking at each other with wide, questioning eyes before leaving themselves.

*****

Kitty had finished her book on heart patients, and completely bored she'd made the mistake of cooking. Basically everything in that kitchen was poisoned. When she'd finally finished cooking twelve, twelve of all things!, cupcakes, three of them were gone in under a minute.

"SHERLOCK!" She screamed from the kitchen, trying very hard not to throw the tray against the wall. He smirked with his third cupcake half way in his mouth and then twirled over to John.

"Oh for God's sake!" Sherlock exclaimed when his eyes landed on John's laptop. "The speckled blonde?" He asked, John just balled his fists and tried very hard not to yell, or cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapters are so short, they'll get longer!!


	5. People don't really go to heaven.

"They wouldn't let us see Grandad when he was dead. Is that cause he went to heaven?" The two little girls asked, Kitty looked at John with a 'we're going to die' face, then looked back at the kids with a reassuring smile.

"People don't really go to heaven," Sherlock said, interjecting what Kitty was going to say, "when they die, they're taken to a special room and burned." The two girls looked at each other, tears pooling around their eyes.

"SHERLOCK!" Kitty and John both yelled, yet another piece of stray fruit meeting Sherlock's head.


	6. Plane Crash

John, Kitty and Sherlock got out of the taxi at a deserted back road, Lestrade got out to meet them with a sad smile on his face, one that came with the job.

"There's a plane crash in Thistledorf yesterday," Both Sherlock and John stayed impassive as Lestrade filled them in with the details, but Kitty's eyes seemed to glaze over momentarily before being fine again. "Everyone dead."

"Suspected terrorist bomb," Sherlock explained back to John, Kitty just sighed and regretted putting on high heels that morning.

"I did read the file," Kitty whispered under her breath, running up to her Dad and holding his hand with a smile. Lestrade just blinked rapidly and kissed her forehead.

"We do watch the news," Sherlock continued, John growled and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"You said boring, and turned over." John replied, Lestrade just shook his head.

"Are they always like this?" He whispered to Kitty, who nodded her head, clear that she'd had more than enough of them. "According to the flight details, this man was checked in on board, inside his coat it's got stuff from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight, even one of those special biscuits," Kitty smiled as her Dad said special biscuits; she thought it was still funny he was calling them those after she hadn't lived with him in ten years, "Here's his passport, stamped in Berlin airport," Kitty didn't even bother trying to look as it was passed to John, she went and stuck her head in the car, seeing if she could find anything else out of place. "So, this man should've died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday, but instead he's in a car boot in Suvec." 

"So how could he escape?" John asked, Kitty frowned at John and took her heels off, anything was more comfortable than the cheep ones. Except maybe the gravel road, Kitty looked like she was going to cry as she walked over to the three of them. 

"Any ideas?" Lestrade asked, Kitty sighed.

"Oh you know, 640 but that doesn't matter," She did a pretty good impersonation of Sherlock, flicking her hair back playfully, John shook his head and rolled his eyes, but couldn't wipe the Sherlock smirk off her face.

"Eight, so far," Sherlock said, completely oblivious to the fact that Kitty had just impersonated him, he sniffed around in the boot, then pulled back face contorted into an odd shape that read 'this makes no sense at all'. "Okay, four ideas." He corrected, Kitty cocked her head and moved around the where Sherlock was standing, and looked at the dead man as Sherlock went through the rest of the paper work. "No ideas." He concluded, storming back off towards the cab. John and Kitty looked at each other, before bolting to where Sherlock was climbing into the cab.

"Bye Dad!" Kitty screamed as she Mission Impossible'd into the driving away taxi, Lestrade smiled and waved before wiping a tear away from his weathered face. He really had missed his little ball of excitement.


	7. Don't mention the unsloved ones!

Sherlock was decked out in just about everything sciency, blow torch waving out in the open in the lounge room as Kitty exited from the shower. 

"No, no, no, don't mention the unsolved ones!" Sherlock exclaimed, John looked up from his laptop as Kitty stood in the doorway, hands paused in towel drying her hair.

"People want to know you're human," John explained, typing away at his computer again.

"Why?" Sherlock asked, Kitty's towel dropped to the floor at her feet.

"Because they're interested."

"No they're not." Sherlock retorted, "Why are they?" 

"Science. Blow torch. Kitchen." Kitty said, Sherlock reluctantly obeyed, John smiled.

"You know, one thousand eight hundred and ninety five."

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked, returning back to John, all science equipment still in his hand.

"I reset that counter last night, this blog has had nearly 2000 hits in the last eight hours! This is your living, Sherlock. Not 240 different typed of tobacco ash."

"243." 

"If you don't get that science into the kitchen you won't be living for much longer!" Kitty yelled, Mrs. Hudson could be heard chuckling from downstairs, even John was smirking as Kitty picked up her towel and stormed down stairs.


	8. The Naval Treatment

"So what's this one?" This time, walking across the stage Kitty was glad she followed Mrs. Hudson's advise and wore her comfortable high heel boots, she was just taller than John and tall enough that she could slap Sherlock without even trying. And the sound was awesome. "Belly button murders?" John smirked as Kitty hit Sherlock again, Sherlock stayed as impassive as ever.

"The Naval Treatment?" John suggested, both Sherlock and Kitty sighed in disgust.

"Bit too creative, John." Kitty explained, jumping down the stairs that went back stage.

"There's a lot of press outside, guys," Lestrade smiled, meeting them halfway, Kitty blinked and ran ahead as Sherlock pushed in to walk beside Lestrade.

"Well, they won't be interested in us." Sherlock replied, Kitty cocked her head from in front and refrained from giggling.

"Yeah, that was before you were a internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you two." 

"For God's sake!" Sherlock exclaimed turning to John, before disappearing completely. Lestrade stood at the door waiting for the two of them to come down, exchanging a quick hug between himself and his daughter.

"It's times like these I'm glad John doesn't add me to the blog," As Sherlock told them to cover their faces and walk fast, Kitty playfully took Sergeant Donovan's hat and jumped up and down waiting for them.

"Still, it's good for the public image," Lestrade explained, "Big case like this."

"Private Detective announces he has a public image," Sherlock growled as he made his way out into the crowd of paprazzi, Kitty had already made her way to the road, and hailing a cab with a rather large, mocking smile on her face as she waited for John and Sherlock to make their way through the mass of photographers that had parted for her.

"Thank you for not putting me in your blog," Kitty smiled playfully as the two of them slid into the taxi. "I'm quite enjoying it."


	9. The hiker with the bashed in head

"Why the hell is the milk on the fireplace?" Kitty yelled across the flat, "AND MY CLUEDO ON THE FRICKEN WALL?!" Mrs. Hudson just shrugged and put them away. She sighed just as loudly as Kitty had yelled as she entered the kitchen, science equipment all over the table. 

"Kitty, there's mouldy food in this fridge!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, "And thumbs!" Kitty screamed, a little louder than she should've for thumbs, and Mrs. Hudson twirled to see was wrong, a fat, balding man came up the stairs.

"The-the door was..." He looked rather stunned as Kitty curled into Mrs. Hudson's side, "The door was-" Mrs. Hudson nodded for him to continue, her arm wrapping around Kitty's shoulder, and then he just collapsed on the floor. Kitty jumped back a metre, nicking her back on the fridge; Mrs. Hudson gasped then looked up towards where the boys rooms were.

"BOYS! YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!" Mrs. Hudson squeaked worriedly, hoping that he was still alive. It'd be awfully terrible to clean up a dead body.  
***

"Tell us from the start, DON'T be boring." Sherlock ordered, John messaged the lump in Kitty's back that had had an icepack on it for quite a while. 

"My car had broken down, and I was just trying to make it start," The man started, "I don't know how cars work! I just wanted it to start so I could go home! It was the middle of nowhere, you know, and there was a person, just standing out at the river, looking at something. I started my car again, and something went off, must've been the exhaust or something, but it was loud, and when I looked out again the man wasn't there. Then I realised he was there, just... just... lying down. I went out to check if he was okay, I called out to him and everything, but he was dead."

Somehow, that managed to make up Sherlock's mind, because with a hop, skip and a jump, John and Kitty were ushered out of the flat with a laptop, and orders to keep Sherlock updated, and then Sherlock slammed the door behind them.

***

"Sherlock Holmes," Carter greeted, Kitty laughed from her seat as John and her got out.

"You're going to be so, so glad it's not." Kitty sighed, jumping out of the taxi.

"Hello Kathleen." Carter smiled, greeting her as if they were old friends.

"Kathleen?!" John hissed, Kitty grinned but didn't continue. "John Watson," John replied shaking his hand as he hopped out of the taxi himself, "Are you set up for wifi?" Kitty jumped with glee.

"I can set you up for this!" When done, John reluctantly connected to Sherlock's Skype.

"You do realise this is a tiny bit humiliating, don't you?"

"It's okay, I'm fine." Sherlock replied, picking up his coffee with one hand and the laptop with the other.

"Daw, poor baby tired," Kitty laughed, followed Carter down into the bog where the dead body was.

"Now, show me to the stream." Sherlock's blanket body rocked on the Skype face. 

"I didn't really mean for you," John replied as he followed Kitty down to the stream. Kitty stuck her hands in her ears as they continued to talk.

"Look, this is a six, there's no point in my leaving the flat for anything less than a seven," Kitty unstuck her ears, going back to John she looked at the computer screen, her eyes scrunched.

"Was that the doorbell?" 

"We agreed," Sherlock continued, ignoring Kitty completely, "Now go back." John and Kitty took two steps back, "Show me the grass," 

"When did we agree that?" John asked.

"When we were out." Kitty whispered with the usual answer, scratching her hair.

"We agreed it yesterday. STOP!" John held the laptop still, "Closer!" John turned the laptop around and shook his head at Sherlock.

"We weren't even at home yesterday, I was in Dublin and Kitty was in Bristol, then she was having dinner with her Dad!"

"It's hardly my fault you two weren't listening." The door bell rang, and Kitty threw her hands up in the air.

"That's the doorbell!" She exclaimed.

"SHUT UP!" He called down, Kitty sighed.

"A door bell is an inanimate object and does not understand what 'shut up' means, it will just keep ringing until either you answer the door, or the people give up!" Kitty yelled, standing and storming off.

"Do you just carry on talking while I'm away?" John asked, barely even recognising the fact that Kitty had left.

"Well, I don't know, how often are you away?" John sighed, a little mad, looking around for Kitty who had disappeared somehow. "Now, show me the car that backfired."

"There." John said, holding the laptop out at arm's reach.

"This would be so much easier if you just came!" Kitty yelled back from the car, jumping up and down as if she was going to murder Sherlock.

"That's the one that made the noise, yes?" 

"Yup." John replied turning the laptop back, "If you're think gun shot, there wasn't one. He wasn't shot, he was killed by a single blow to the back of the head from a blunt instrument which then magically disappeared along with the killer. That's got to be an eight, at least."

"You've got two more minutes and then I want to know more about the driver," Carter replied, Kitty pulled both Carter and John up the steep slope to where the car was.

"Oh, forget him, he's an idiot. Why else would he think himself a suspect?"

"I would." Kitty, called, waving her hand in front of the camera. 

"Me too!" Carter called, John looked a little smug as both of them smiled.

"Pass me over." Sherlock looked threatening as John sighed, still holding the laptop.

"There's a mute button, and I will use it."

"Up! UP A BIT! I'm not talking to you from down here!" 

"Okay," John exclaimed, passing the laptop, "Just take it." He rolled his eyes at Kitty who was grinning like a mad dog as they continued to walk to the police van.

"Having driven to an isolated location and successfully committed a crime without a single witness why would he then call the police and consult a detective? fair play?" 

"He's trying to be clever, it's over confidence." Carter replied, Kitty shrugged at John who was rolling his eyes every time Sherlock spoke. 

"Have you seen him?! Morbidly obese," He just kept on going with words that even Kitty and John couldn't put together and they lived with Sherlock, they picked up things like 'internet porn addict' and something about his right sleeve, but both of them really just wanted to hit the mute button. Hard. "And you think he's an audacious criminal mastermind? Don't worry, this is just stupid."

"IS HE STILL IN THERE WITH YOU?!" Kitty screamed, jumping in behind Carter. 

"Go to the stream." John and Kitty both threw their hands up in the air.

"What's in the stream?" Carter asked, Kitty sat down on the tarmac with a huge sigh.

"Go and see."

Mrs. Hudson could be heard telling Sherlock off for the doorbell ringing as Carter passed the laptop over to John again. Some people in official looking suits started talking about getting Sherlock clothes, and then shut the laptop, John called Sherlock's name as it happened. Kitty launched up from the floor, looking over John's shoulder.

"I've lost him," John called, shaking his head, "I don't know-"

"Doctor Watson, Miss Winters, it's for you." John nodded.

"Mmkay," He held his hand out for the phone, Kitty looked up as a helicopter landed, her eyes wide she tapped on John's arm, watching him every step of the way. 

"Uh, no sir, the helicopter," John sighed, before Kitty took his hand and dragged him down the helicopter.

"Never say no to a free ride,"


	10. Tea at the palace

"Sir, you look acceptable, you can go through." The man who met them at the door to Buckingham palace grinned, "Just follow Jim here." John looked at Kitty as she stayed where she was, a little concerned about leaving her alone. "Ma'am, you can follow Anita, she's got some clothes." The look on Kitty's face confirmed where she was going, and that she felt safe. She even waved with a huge smile on her face.

"See you soon John!" She called, running after Anita. John shrugged, convinced that Lestrade wouldn't murder him for leaving her alone, and then followed Jim to a room where Sherlock was already waiting, his clothes in a neat pile on the coffee table.  
John and Sherlock looked at each other, John held his arms out questioningly and Sherlock just shrugged, a little peeved that he was taken away from his home. John nodded and walked in, clenching and un-clenching his hands nervously. He then sat down next to Sherlock, an uncomfortable silence in the room. 

"Are you wearing any pants?" John asked.

"Nope." Sherlock replied, not meeting John's eyes. 

"Okay." He replied, not meeting Sherlock's eyes either. When they finally did, they burst into laughter, trying very hard for it not to echo through the whole room. "We're in Buckingham palace, right." John smiled, blinking back tears. "I'm seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray." They both giggled like little girls, trying very, very hard to regain themselves. "What are we doing here?" John asked, looking around the room, "Sherlock, look, seriously what?"

"I don't know."

"Here to see the Queen?" John asked as Mycroft glided around the corner.

"Oh, apparently yes." They both burst into laughter again, causing Mycroft to growl from where he was standing.

"Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?" Mycroft asked, grabbing a chair and placing in at the end of the table before standing where he was going to sit himself. 

"We solve crimes, I blog about it, and he forgets his pants, I wouldn't hold out too much hope."

"I'm the adult of this group Mycroft, even you should know that." Kitty smiled, pulling her 1950's style dress down and wrapping the thin blue veil around her shoulders before sitting, a soft glare in her eyes.

"Which is sad because she's barely 20." Kitty cocked her head, madness beginning to show in her eyes. Sherlock stopped smiling.

"I was on a case, Mycroft," 

"Oh what? The hiker and the backfire? Last glance at the police report I thought it would be a bit obvious, surely."

"Transparent." Sherlock replied, Kitty glanced up, a little annoyed that if the case was transparent as Sherlock had put it she'd had to leave the flat. She put the last pin into her hair and glared through her eye lashes at him. 

"Time to move on, then." Mycroft picked up Sherlock's clothes from the coffee table and held them out to Sherlock. "We are in Buckingham palace, the very heart of the British nation. Sherlock Holmes put your trousers on."

"What for?" Kitty clasped her hands together and smiled into her lap, John noticed she'd put fake lashes on, and as the conversation went by her facial structure began to reconstruct with all the make-up to look a lot older, and more beautiful, than she usually did.

"Your client," Mycroft began to explain, Sherlock rose from his seat.

"And my client is?" Sherlock said, standing completely.

"Illustrious. In the extreme," Both John and Kitty stood as the new person entered the room, John a little nervously, and Kitty with an air of authority that John had never seen before. It was almost graceful. "And remaining, I'll have to inform you, entirely anonymous." He nodded to Sherlock before his eyes fell upon the elder brother, "Mycroft!" He smiled.

"Harry," Mycroft smiled back shaking his hand.

"Miss Winters," Harry smiled, extending his hand too. John noticed she had a lot more respect here too.

"Harry, may I apologise on Mycroft's behalf for the state of Sherlock." Her voice was smooth and respectful, her eyes never leaving his face. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure he's a full time occupation," Harry smiled as Kitty let go of his hand, Mycroft grinned.

"You can only imagine." Mycroft added as Kitty stepped back, returning to her seat.

"And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." 

"Hello, yes." John smiled, shaking his hand. Kitty smiled and nodded encouragingly as John looked at her, a little afraid of what was going on.

"My employer is a tremendous fan of your blog." John's face turned from surprise to somewhat trying to be modest at the remark.

"Your employer?" He asked, trying not to smile.

"They particularly enjoy the one about the aluminium crutch."

"Thank-you," John smiled, flashing a look backwards at Sherlock that read 'told you people read it', Kitty averted her eyes as not to laugh. Harry took a breath in before turning to Sherlock.

"And Mr. Holmes, the younger." Mycroft nodded at Sherlock, "You look taller in your photographs." 

"I take the precaution of a long coat and a short friend." John nodded, then glared at Sherlock as he walked passed, Kitty just stood, staring impassively at the company. John noticed somehow she'd slipped either nail polish or fake nails on while they weren't looking, they were a deep purple. John rubbed his eyebrow and made a note to ask her about it later. "Mycroft, I don't do anonymous clients. I'm used to mystery and one end of my cases, both ends is too much work. Good morning." Mycroft looked at Kitty, who wasn't quite fuming yet, but very close to it.

Subtly she placed the front of her foot on the ground, Mycroft nodded in recognition. He stepped forwards, placing his whole foot on Sherlock's sheet that was dragging behind him. The sheet immediately fell down, Kitty averted her eyes as it almost reached the ground before Sherlock could wrap it back around his waist.

"This is a matter of national importance, grow up!" Mycroft scalded, Sherlock fought against his brother's hold on the sheet.

"Get off my sheet!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Or what?!" Mycroft replied, Kitty pulled out a phone John had never seen before, a blackberry, deep purple, like her nails, and she began typing something.

"Or I'll just walk away," Sherlock said quite simply.

"I'll let you." Mycroft replied.

"Boys please, not here." John said, looking at Kitty who nodded.

"Who. Is. My. Client?!" Sherlock asked, Kitty tapped on her phone.

"Take a look at where you are standing and make a deduction." Mycroft replied, Kitty sighed and tapped her foot.

"If you don't feel like making deductions today, I'll make your life easier. Clothes on now, or I press the call button." With that, Sherlock was gone, clothes in hand. Kitty smiled as they all stood around at their chairs. "Please, sit down." Kitty smiled, two men came in with trays of tea.

"How was your dinner last night, Miss Winters?" Mycroft asked, Kitty smiled.

"It went smoother than anything ever before it, after a full course dinner he was eager to give away the information." John blinked, he'd been under the impression she'd gone out to dinner with her Dad. John shrugged, storing that away to remember it as well. Before long Sherlock was back, and sitting down in the chair again. Mycroft began pouring the tea.

"I'll be Mother," Mycroft joked, he placed the large teapot full of English Breakfast, before pouring a smaller tea pot full of a purple liquid, John assumed it was for Kitty. Or whoever she was at the moment.

"And there is a whole childhood in a nutshell," Sherlock sighed, Mycroft looked up and glared before passing Kitty her tea cup. Mycroft nodded to Harry.

"My employer," Harry began, "has a... problem."

"A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature," Mycroft continued, "And in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen."

"Why?" Sherlock asked, "You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally secret service, why come to me?" Kitty took a sip of her tea, watching the conversation play out before her.

"People do come to you for help, don't they Mr. Holmes?" Harry asked.

"Mmmm, not to date anyone with a navy." John smirked as Kitty lowered her tea cup and saucer.

"This is a matter of the highest security," Mycroft said, "And therefore of trust."

"And you don't trust your own secret service?" John asked, Kitty smiled, her back straightening.

"John, they are payed to spy on people. Naturally, they can't be trusted in a case like this." Kitty grinned again and took another sip of her tea.

"I do think we have a time table," Harry said, not trying to be rude. 

"Yes, of course." Mycroft said, leaning forward. He pulled a large brief case with multiple locks on it up from the floor, placing it on his lap and unlocking it. "What do you know about this woman?" Mycroft asked, pulling out and passing a photo to Sherlock.

"Nothing what so ever," Sherlock exclaimed, he flashed it at John then passed it to Kitty. 

"Then you should be paying more attention," Mycroft smirked, Kitty spoke up.

" In the last year she's been under two political scandals, she breaks the code often but she's one of the best. She recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately." Kitty passed the photo back to Sherlock.

"You know I don't concern myself with trivia." Kitty smiled gracefully, looking at Sherlock. "Who is she?"

"Miss Irene Adler," Kitty continued, "I trained under her. She breaks the rules quite a lot. She's professionally known as The Woman, it's not liked in our... profession, to be known by your first name when looking for clients. Then tend to like going to status, if they want a woman they go for The Woman."

"Professionally?" John asked, Mycroft smirked.

"There are many names for what she does, she prefers dominatrix." Mycroft explained.

"Whereas a lot of us prefer companion." Kitty said, eyeing Mycroft off coldly.

"Like that Joss Whedon TV show?" Kitty nodded slowly, sipping her tea slowly again.

"Dominatrix," Sherlock whispered, his eyes searching the photo again and again. 

"Don't be alarmed, it's to do with sex." Mycroft said.

"Sex doesn't alarm me!" Sherlock said, interjected his brother. Kitty smirked into her cup before sipping at it again. 

"How would you know?" Mycroft asked, Kitty coughed politely from her seat.

"Schedule," Kitty reminded, tapping her wrist. Mycroft nodded.

"She provides, shall we say, recreational scolding, for those who enjoy that kind of thing and are prepared to pay for it. These are all from her website." He passed a file of photos,   
Kitty stood, making her way around to the back of the couch so she could see.

"And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs." Sherlock said, passing the file up to Kitty so she could look.

"You're very quick Mr. Holmes." Harry smiled.

"Hardly difficult deduction, photographs of whom?" Sherlock asked, there was an odd silence while Mycroft and Harry looked at each other.

"It's against our code to exploit our clients, and if our clients do not want to be named at a time like this then they can stay anonymous now too." Harry looked at Kitty who nodded slowly, "A person of significance to Harry's employer no doubt, and possibly one of my more regular clients."

"You can't tell us anything?" John asked, looking between the three of them. There was another stunted silence.

"I can tell you it's a young person, a young female person," Mycroft said, Kitty's eyes enlarged, before Mycroft sighed when seeing Kitty's warning face.

"How many photographs?" Sherlock asked.

"A considerable number, apparently." Mycroft said.

"Two thousand and sixty four," Kitty whispered in between Sherlock and John. "We're not even supposed to have any."

"Do Miss Adler and this young female person appear in these photos together?" Sherlock asked, Kitty made her way back to her seat, filing the photographs away back in the paper bag.

"Yes they do," Mycroft replied.

"And I assume in a number of compromising scenarios."

"An imaginative range, we are assured." Kitty paled in her seat, Sherlock noticed her tea cup shaking in the saucer as she placed it back on the table.

"John, you might want to put that cup back in the saucer now." John did just that.

"Can you help us, Mr. Holmes?" Harry asked, Sherlock's eyes lit up, "Do you take the case?"

"What case?" Sherlock asked, "Sure Miss Winter," He spat the name out, as if it was poison, "could fix this issue." Kitty shook her head.

"Take the case, Sherlock," She whispered, her hands held in front of her tightly.

"Just pay her, now and in full. As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, know when you are beaten." Sherlock said, reach for his coat as he was leaving.

"She doesn't want anything," Mycroft said, leaning back, "She got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour." Sherlock looked amused, Kitty looked terrified.

"Oh, a power play," Sherlock said with a smile on her face, "A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix... ooo, this is getting rather fun isn't it?" The whole room looked rather awkward, Kitty stood collecting a handbag that John hadn't even realised had arrived.

"Sherlock," John warned, Sherlock smiled as Kitty began to leave.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked, Kitty stopped in her tracks.

"In London currently, she's staying-" Mycroft started, Sherlock stood walking over to Kitty.

"Text me the details, or Kitty could just tell me if that wasn't against her code." The rest of the group stood as Sherlock touched Kitty's lower back, telling her it was time to go. "I'll be in touch by the end of the day."

"Do you really think you'll have news by then?" Harry asked hopefully. Sherlock turned, as did Kitty, both with smiles on their faces.

"No, I think he'll have the photographs." Kitty smiled, before leaving the room herself.

"Well I can only hope you're as good as Miss Winter's believes you are." Harry smiled.

"I'll need some equipment of course,"

"Anything you require I'll have it sent to-"

"Can I have a box of matches?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked, Sherlock turned to him with a smug look on his face.

"Or your cigarette lighter, either one will do."

"I don't smoke."

"No I know you don't, but your employer does." Sherlock held his hand out for the cigarette lighter, Kitty retraced her steps to look back at why the boys hadn't caught up to her.

"We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr. Holmes." Harry whispered.

"I'm not the commonwealth." Sherlock replied, taking the cigarette light with a jump of glee.

"And that's as modest as he gets." John sighed, walking over to Kitty. "Pleasure to meet you." As they left, John caught up with Kitty and with a soft whisper he said "I feel as though I should be escorting you out, arm in arm." Kitty smiled.

"Do so and you'll go up a notch in Mycroft's respect." She slipped an arm into John's and kissed his cheek, "Two notches." She whispered.

"La'erz." Sherlock smiled, walking out, all three grinned maliciously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Kitty and Irene are basically doing Inara's job! Irene's on the disciplining side, Kitty's on the loving and caring side!


End file.
